


Fireside

by TheVillain



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVillain/pseuds/TheVillain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm glad you have decided to keep me company during these nights, friend." he admits. "Yeah, me too." says Porthos, as he inches his way closer. Athos doesn't move away when his personal space is slowly invaded. In fact, he seems to welcome the intrusion by closing in the rest of the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Doesn't Happen Everyday.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm super nervous about posting this.. I haven't written a fic in a long time and I'm new to the Musketeers fandom..go easy on me?
> 
> I'm planning for this to have more chapters if all goes well.
> 
> I rated this mature for the content of future chapters.
> 
> Oh, and the formatting might be a little strange. Sorry about that :o/

Athos- A great man with a great talent for holding things back and holding things in. No man is without his vices and Athos proves no exception. When the bottles run dry, he would find himself in total darkness, running a hand down his trousers. He doesn't know why he does it- in the end, he only feels pathetic. Lonely. Other nights, he doesn't feel like any intimate pleasure. Not with himself. He had given up on women for what feels like a long time ago.

Then there are the Musketeers. An outlet for his mind, his soul, and his heart. Without them, Athos tries to convince himself that they will need him but in reality the fear he has is quite opposite.- Not that Porthos, Aramis or D'artagnan would ever consider continuing without him, the fear still gnaws at his stomach and the doubt weighs in his mind when he's had too much to drink.

It's nighttime now, and he and the three others are camped out in the woods for the night. Exhausted, Athos slumps foreward, placing his head in his hands and letting out a long and heavy sigh. He's tired but even though he wants to sleep, his mind won't rest. Lifting his head, he looks over at his sleeping companions and feels ever grateful for their friendship and company.

"Oi, what are you still doin' up?" A voice approaching from behind asks. It's Porthos with an armfull of sticks and logs for the fire. Athos doesn't reply and stares solemnly into the fire. It's a few moments before Porthos speaks again, needing his time to find the right words. Sure, Athos was brooding, Athos was dramatic, but most importantly, Athos was his friend. Porthos wasn't the eloquint type. In the end, he picks up a flask and hands it to his comrade who accepts it without hesitation. "What a day, huh? Good thing I was able to win a few bets in town and gain a couple of bottles of booze." Porthos boasts with a cheeky smile. "In other words, you cheated." Athos responded dryly. "Actually, it was my lucky day. I didn't cheat!"

"Fair enough." came the believed reply. With another swig, Athos hands the flask back to Porthos. "Get some sleep. Aramis says we should get an early start tomorrow." Porthos reminds him, getting himself comfortable and ready for his slumber.  
Just as sleep starts to take him over, Athos' voice pulls him away from the hazy void and back to the conscious world. "Have you ever.. just felt like a slave? Trapped in your own mind."

Sitting back up, Porthos shakes his head. "You gotta break free." he comforts, hoping he'll be at least some help. "Yeah, but how? I don't even know what.." Athos trails off. "What, what?" came the followed answer.

The light from the fire is illuminating and Porthos tries to get a better look, coming a little closer to his friend. "Nothing. Just go to sleep." Athos changes his mind in saying anymore and lies down finally allowing himself to sink under.

In the morning, the rain is coming down heavy. Gray sky and dark clouds rolling in, most likely to bring more water. Their hats are the only real barrier between them and the rain. Most of the time it doesn't help. "Alright, it looks like we're good to go." Aramis says, tightening the saddle on his horse.

Porthos readies his own horse as well and if not for last night, he wouldn't have noticed it. He wouldn't have noticed how the rain makes Athos look that much more miserable. That was last night, however, and this is now. Athos' demons are reeled in again, not that they were ever fully on the "outside" and his stoic demeanor rapidly replaces any insecurity he might have slipped out. Back to his old self. A self that had cracked itself open ever so slightly to Porthos beside the fire that

Porthos wanted to know more. Their small exchange last night might not have seemed like much but it was.  
Once on their own horses, the four men ride off as the sun was new in the sky. The group was summoned yet again back to town. They were on their way to carry out a different mission somewhere in the countryside when a courier approached Aramis with a letter from the King stating to drop whatever they were doing and return back to the Palace.

They are met by the King and the Cardinal, the Cardinal taking his usual place as the one taking control of the situation. "Ah, I see you've finally returned." The Cardinal begins. The four just nod slightly without speaking, waiting to hear their reason for being so.

"Apparently, spies have somehow gotten in here!" The king inturrupts, The Cardinal adds "-Spanish spies."

"What do the Spanish want with us? We aren't at war." Aramis asks. "It seems now we are. You're summoned here to find the deceptors and make sure no information about our military or government was stolen or lost." The Cardinal informs.

Athos nods in understanding. "We'll take care of it."

"You better." and then they are dismissed.

"So, where do we start?" the young Dartagnan asks, raising a brow.

"I suggest we check the usual drinking establishments, see what people know and keep an eye out for anyone new or suspicious." says Athos. Both Porthos and Aramis nod in agreement. They all know the town's best places to get ale and beer but for different reasons. Aramis, to wine and dine dates, Porthos to party and have fun, and Athos to numb and forget.

At the end of the day, a name emerges, Juan Sotomayor, indeed of Spain. The "why" is something that's left for tomorrow. D'artagnan retreats to his mistress' and the trio head back to their own dwelling.

It's still raining- pouring even more heavily than before. They don't know when the storm will let up. Aramis stokes a fire and they share some drinks after a long day and talk about who this Juan Sotomayor could be. Every now and again, Porthos and Athos lock eyes. Neither look away too quickly.

When the night turns to early morning, Porthos lies in bed unable to shake Athos from his mind. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, he's not hurt, so why the hell can't he think about something else? Porthos could already tell that he wasn't going to sleep so he gets up and goes downstairs in hopes that being out of his room will do some good in clearing his mind.

At the bottom of the steps, he can see Athos sitting by the fire, the light illuminating his face just like the night before. He can't stop looking this time. He runs his eyes up and down Athos' body slowly and suddenly feels a little weak.

"Porthos? What are you doing here?" Athos asks curiously.

"I could ask you the same question." Porthos chuckles lightly and feels a bubbling in his stomach when he sees a small smile from Athos. He pulls a chair up beside his friend and the two men just sit there.

The company Porthos provides is soothing. It actually makes Athos feel sleepy.  
Porthos opens his mouth to say something when, "I'm heading to bed. You should too my friend." and then he watches as Athos leaves him to his own as he goes back to his room. This time it's Porthos who is alone staring at the fire. New questions start to surface, questions he did not have answers for.

The new sun rises high in the sky and with it shines away any sign of rain. D'artagnan meets them in the morning to pick up their investigation. They hit the streets, scanning the crowds and being discreet. No sign of him anywhere. The pressure was on and only intensified as time went on to sort this out.

New information included a small ring of spies operating instead of simply just one man. Sotomayor was simply the ring leader. They will find him sooner or later. They know they are closing in.

Days pass and more often than not, the two meet at late hours. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they don't. Athos appreciates how private Porthos let's their conversations be and finds himself opening up little by little with each passing day. Neither man realizes that he's planting a seed in the other. A seed that starts small yet grows bigger and stronger with time and desire.

After capturing two of Sotomayor's henchmen, they are alone tonight. D'artagnan with his usual mistress and Aramis on some kind of date. As they sit in silence, the magnetic energy between the two becomes uncomfortable like it never has before. To Porthos' surprise however, Athos is the one to break it. "I'm glad you have decided to keep me company during these nights, friend." he admits. "Yeah, me too." says Porthos, as he inches his way closer. Athos doesn't move away when his personal space is slowly invaded. In fact, he seems to welcome the intrusion by closing in the rest of the way.

The heat, the spark, the madness, whatever one is to call it, finally takes physical form as their lips meet. The kiss is slow at first- unsure and curious, but when it's certain that Porthos nor Athos pull away, the hunger grows. They don't speak as their mouths are busy saying what could never be said with words.

When they pull away, Porthos is smiling. "Well, that doesn't happen every day." he says lightheartedly. "No, it certainly does not." Athos agrees. Porthos could feel his heart swell in his chest and similarly Athos could feel his own in his throat.

"So, ah, do you wanna come to my room? It's gettin' cold and the fire is going out." Porthos says, hoping Athos would follow.

"Yes." is all Athos answers with as he shadows Porthos to his room. Once they are inside, Porthos closes the door and walks into Athos until Athos' back is up against the wall. Porthos leans in and catches Athos' lips, this time more confident.

Athos goes for Porthos' trouser's when Pothos stops him. "No, not yet. Let me ease your mind, cause god knows you're always thinking yourself into oblivion." Porthos says, laughing a little. "Right." Athos grumbles but agrees.

Athos could feel Porthos' mouth go from his lips down his neck, pushing fabric aside to work down his shoulders. Athos closes his eyes and a heavy sigh of relief escapes him. It feels so good. "How long has it been?" Porthos asks sincerely. It may have been a question that was not his place to ask, and it may have even come out the wrong way. Athos just shakes his head.

It hurts Porthos to know that Athos is in so much emotional turmoil and that he denies himself any pleasure. He's far too good a man. "Just let me do the work." Porthos states, slowly putting his hands up Athos' shirt and feeling his body. Athos pulls away and glares.

"You know I don't take well to charity." he growls. "I don't need pity and I certainly don't need whatever it is you think you can give me." comes Athos' venomous words as he storms out of the room and then out of the house.

For Pothos, it's not about pity. Sure, he hates when Athos tortures himself, but thats nothing new. Although Porthos is sure it isn't pity, he isn't sure how to explain how he feels. He's not like Athos or Aramis with whom words flow easily. Now, he's stuck here, still tasting Athos on his lips and missing the contact.

Porthos goes to bed alone, something only a few minutes ago he thought was going to be different.


	2. Athos is fine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porthos, Aramis and D'artagnan are torn between searching for Sotomayor and searching for Athos. Athos' absence is putting both him and Porthos through the motions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a short chapter. A longer one will be next. Enjoy :)  
> *Oh!  
> And a thankyou up to heaven to my great grandfather Juan Sotomayor ;)

Athos wakes up disoriented and in terrible pain. He wants to move his arms to touch his face and feel if it's even still there but his arms are restrained in heavy, rusted out chains. The next thing he notices is how cold he is, shivering even. He's naked and only one eye could open. The other is swollen shut. He swallows hard and struggles against his bindings but it's no use. Closing his eyes, he tries to think back to what happened.

It was an ambush. Of course he's probably the best swordsman of the guard but only one man could take on so many. Athos wishes Porthos were here. He wishes that Porthos will forgive him. He knows he will but it makes Athos queasy lacking the larger man's comfort at this very moment.  


Footsteps approach and the unlocking of a door is heard. The door opens and squeaks before a tall, slender man walks in, carrying a bucket.

"You're awake but not awake enough." he says, dumping the contents of the bucket on the naked musketeer. More icy water. Athos is quiet but his body is shaking and shivering on its own accord.

"You've killed several of my men these last few days." the man states. So this was Juan Sotomayor. "You and your little friends." he adds, which makes Athos feel inwardly protective of his comrades.

"You had to make this hard and now look what you've done. Unfortunately, we can't let you go. You do understand that, right?" Juan asks rhetorically. A bigger man steps out from beside Juan as he leaves and closes the door.

"Tell us where the king puts his documents of affairs and money." the man demands. Athos does not know which is worse- the pain or the cold-or the annoyance of interrogations. "Now, you either tell me what I want to know or I'll make sure you never see again." the man threatens this time.  


Athos gets a hard slap across the face. He already knows that he won't give a drop of information so he's in for a long day. In his head, he replays the kiss him and Porthos shared over and over again to numb the pain and to provide hope. While it does just that, it also burdens his heart with regret and guilt.  


In the mean time, Pothos, Aramis and D'artagnan are waiting outside, horses ready. "Where is he?" Aramis asks impatiently. "Relax. I'm sure he'll be here soon. You know how he is." Porthos replies, not liking the fact that Athos is neither in his room or at the pub. "We should really get going. He knows where to find us, doesn't he?" D'artagnan adds.

"Yeah, alright. Let's get outta here." Porthos nods and follows behind the other two.

A dark shadow of a figure is illusive in the shadows but Aramis spots him, nodding to Porthos and D'artagnan. The three ride to a more secluded area, letting whoever it is follow them. It's always amused Aramis how easy it is to trap these kinds of people.  
After dismounting, the person starts running away on foot which leads the chase on. D'artagnan starts shooting when Aramis yells, "Stop shooting! We need him alive!"

Porthos is ahead of the two and quickly closes in on the unknown until they are tackled to the ground and un hooded. "Who are you?!" Porthos half asks/half yells. The man coughs from Porthos' hold but says nothing. "Who!" Porthos yells again. This time D'artagnan and Aramis are standing behind him, guns cocked and pointed at him.. just in case.

"S-Sotomayor sent me." came the weak reply. "My name is Fransisco, please don't hurt me." the man begs. "Where is Juan Sotomayor?" Aramis asks, pistol still pointed at him. "He's not here! He left. Please don't kill me!"

"Great." Porthos grumbles. "Where did he go?"

"An old barn about 20 miles north of here. Please let me go!" the man whines. Pistols withdrawn from him, the man gets up and scampers off.

"What about any others here in the city?" D'artagnan asks curiously.

"We should take care of them first, then head north." Aramis says, Porthos nodding in agreement.  


With the day coming to a close, the trio had made 3 arrests. Progress but not good enough. Early the next morning they would set out to finally find their main culprit and bring an end to this mission.

Heading in for the night and regrouping, Porthos looks around for Athos without avail. "Have either of you seen Athos?" he asks, only slightly worried. "No, I thought he would be in bed at this hour, no?" the young D'artagnan asks. "He's not there." Porthos says shaking his head.

"Have you tried the tavern?" Aramis suggests. No, he hasn't.

Porthos is already half way out the door and takes off for Athos' favorite watering hole. When he gets there, his eyes scan the room carefully looking in every corner and at every table. No Athos. The last thing he could think of was Treville's office although he wouldn't know why his friend-turned-lover-thing would be there.  


Hurriedly, Porthos searches wherever he could but comes up empty handed. No one has seen him or heard from him. Porthos' stomach is starting to knot as he returns back to the house in hopes Athos shows up there.

Hours pass and there is no sign of Athos. This time Aramis and D'artagnan share Porthos' worry. It's not unusual for Athos to go binge drinking but since the the local tavern's haven't seen him and knowing full well that he wouldn't dare leave his duty or the mission without word, Porthos feels ill. "We have to find him." Porthos states, hands slippery with cold sweat.

"Where do we look? He could be anywhere." says the doubtful D'artagnan. Although he's been with Porthos, Athos and Aramis for some time now, he still has not fully understood what they mean to each other. This becomes especially so since that meaning has deepened for Porthos as of late.

"I don't know but we're not stopping until we find him!" Porthos growls. D'artagnan opens his mouth to say something but Aramis shakes his head and the youngest of the three shuts up. Porthos has a huge heart and when someone fucks with that heart-- well, the outcome for that person is grim.

It's been over ten hours since Athos has seen the other three. He feels weak and sick but refuses to give in. He's not saying anything about the king no matter what it has to do with. When he's not being interrogated and tortured, Athos closes his eyes and imagines him and Porthos together. Instead of him storming out, he imagines a new outcome. Him and Porthos kissing their way to the bed to which they fall upon and the callous yet gentle hands that work on his skin.

Athos feels a deep inner warmth spread throughout his body even though his skin is turning various shades of blue and purple from the cold. Porthos was keeping him alive and he didn't even know it. Porthos, Aramis and d'artagnan were coming for him. That, he knew. It was just a matter of when and in what state he would be in when they finally arrive.

"We practically searched the whole city. He's not here." Aramis sighs. "No. No, he's gotta be here." Porthos frets.

"Aramis is right.. we should get Sotomayor first and resume the search in the morning." D'artagnan agrees.

"In the morning? You just goin' to forget about him then?" Porthos asks angerily.

"Noone is forgetting anyone. Athos is more than capable to hold his own for a few more hours. We almost have Sotomayor, Porthos. As soon as we arrest, or kill, him, we're going back on the search." Aramis explains. "You know I'd never leave him."

It seems like no answer will be good enough unless it's something along the lines of 'fuck Sotomayor and find Athos NOW.'  
"Fine. I can't believe this but fine." Porthos reluctantly agrees and follows the other two out of the city in search of this barn.

All the while, Porthos can't get Athos out of his head. His lips, his skin that Porthos wasn't able to touch enough. Even if Athos wants nothing of the sort, the pain and happiness that Athos brought to Porthos' heart was real. If something happened to his love..

  


Porthos shakes his head of any negative thoughts. Athos is fine. Athos is fine. Athos is fine.


	3. The Barn.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porthos, Aramis and D'artagnan finally find Athos.

It took a while to finally find the place. The directions were less than precise.

On the property stood a barn house, a stable and a small living quarters. First, hands on the hilt of their swords, the three creep up towards the house first. Porthos goes to check the lock but the door just swings open. The place seems completely empty. Still, the three are on high alert.

D'artagnan and Aramis check the remaining rooms while Porthos scans the current one.

"Nothing." says D'artagnan first. Then, "Nothing here either." from Aramis. Porthos comes up much the same.

"Let's check the barn." Aramis says, leading the other two outside again. As they approach, a bloody knife is laying on the floor outside the door and then there is yelling from inside. 

Porthos shoves ahead of Aramis and blasts inside, tackling the first person he sees. He could hear the clanking of swords behind him knowing that both Aramis and D'artagnan have his back. That's when he sees him.

"Athos!" Porthos yells, scrambling to get to him but it's not fast enough and more men get in his way. Porthos fights his way, getting slashed on the arm in the process, and reaches his friend. Worry and fear are going wild in Porthos' gut and when D'artagnan and Aramis finally take care of the others, they all rush to Athos, helping Porthos get him out of the chains.

"How is he? I mean.. fuck." Porthos mutters. Aramis immediately looks Athos over, biting his lip as he observes the wounds and all the damage that's been done.'

"He's alive but we need to get him home. He's severely injured and it's important he regains consciousness as soon as possible." Aramis recommends.

"He can't. He'll never make it, Aramis." Porthos worries, putting his hands on his head feeling utterly cornered as to what to do to save his friend.

"Why don't we bring him to the house? Maybe there is a bed we could stoke a fire." the younger pipes up. 

"Thats exactly what we need. Let's move him. Careful, Porthos, Careful." Aramis scolds making sure he's gentle.  
Like D'artagnan suggested, there is indeed a bedroom with a single bed. Porthos tucks him under the blankets as Artamis get's his sewing kit out and lights a nearby candle. 

"D'artangnan, get a fire ready and heat some washcloths, towels, whatever you can find." Aramis orders. "Porthos, look for old clothes, anything that can help keep him warm." is Porthos' job.  


Porthos looks around slightly frantic until he come across a large dresser drawer and pulls out whatever male clothes there are. Luckily, they are not too much bigger than what Athos normally wears.

First he pulls socks on Athos' feet and watches as Aramis sews up what he can.

"Nnnngh." came the low groan.

"It's alright, love. We're here. Aramis is sewing you right up." Porthos comforts. D'artagnan comes back with a few heated wash clothes and hands them to Aramis.

"Porthos, help me lift him to a sitting position. This will both clean him up and get him warm."

"Christ, what did they do to him?" Porthos asks, shaking his head. "Porthos, focus." Aramis chides. Porthos nods and help get Athos up so Aramis could do his thing.  
Aramis sews up everything he can and after a half hour or so, the color in Athos' cheeks are starting to return. It will be a long while before he's healthy though. Then, Aramis motions for Porthos and D'artagnan to meet him outside the room.

"Did you see his eye? Could he see again when that heals?" D'artagnan asks. 

"Yes, I saw. There's no way of saying but I don't think this case will lead to blindness." Aramis guesses. 

"And what about Juan Sotomayor?" D'artagnan asks again.

"To hell with Sotomayor. You two find him if you want but I'm not leaving him." Porthos grumbles.  
Aramis gives a heavy sigh but this time he listens to Porthos. "Alright, friend." laying a hand on his shoulder. "D'artagnan and I will search the parameter for Sotomayor. Stay with Athos and make sure he doesn't decline."

Porthos pulls up a chair next to the bed and let his fingers gently trace Athos' swollen eye. 

"Porthos." Athos mumbles.

"Shh, don't you talk. Aramis wants you to rest." Porthos soothes. Athos sighs a little but he knows he has to tell Porthos what's been swimming in his head all this time. He's not the type to just let it go and rest. Athos will push through.

"No. I must tell you of my thoughts." Athos says, voice low and raspy.

"But-"

"No. Stop. Let me.. let me talk." Athos pleads. He swallows hard and winces a little in the pain that is still burning through his body. Porthos stays quiet and wants to touch him more but hesitates, remembering how that turned out last time.

"I should not have acted the way I did." he admits. While Athos has too much pride to admit he was wrong, he's trying his best to apologize in his own way. He moves his fingers slowly and rests them on Porthos' arm, too weak to really move much else.

"The pain was.. it was hell on earth." Athos describes, swallowing hard. "Thinking about you was what kept me alive." he admits, unable to look Porthos in the eye.

"Hey, now. That's all in the past, you hear? I know this type of thing isn't easy for you." Porthos understands and puts his hand lightly on Athos'.  
Athos winces again and pales. This does not get passed Porthos.

"What's wrong?" Porthos asks, immediately getting up. Athos just leans over the side of the bed and starts vomiting.

"Alright, love. Let that out." Porthos comforts, gently rubbing his back and being careful not to be too rough. Afterwards, Athos is tucked back in and made sure he's warm and then Porthos grabs a mop and bucket from the closet and begins cleaning up the mess.

"Never pictured you doing domestic work." Athos dryly jokes.

"You know, if you weren't like this I'd have thrown this bucket at you."  
Athos would have rolled his eyes if he could. He was glad to be back in Porthos' company and this was the first time they were alone since he left.

"When we get home, I would not mind trying again if that does not disagree with you." Athos offers.

"There's plenty of time for that, friend. You need to get well first." Porthos assures his friend and then lightly bestows a kiss on his forehead.

For the next hour, Athos goes in and out of sleep and Porthos keeps a close and watchful eye until he hears horses outside. Taking a look, he sees that Aramis and D'artagnan have returned.

"How is he doing?" Asks Aramis.

"He's sleeping now but still sore. Uh, and He threw up about a half hour ago."  
Aramis quietly enters Athos' room and feels his forehead.

"Fever."

"Are we able to move him?" D'artagnan asks.

"I don't know. He's in such a fragile state. The journey might.. well, let's say it's not in Athos' best interest for any transport." Aramis sighs.

"We can't stay here, it's too dangerous." says D'artagnan. Porthos is silent because even he knows that they have to move.

"What happened to Sotomayor?" Porthos asks. "You did manage without me, did you?" and Porthos breaks a small smile.

"Aramis shot him dead." D'artagnan fills him in.  
Porthos is more than happy with that outcome but his happiness again fades back into worry.

"Aramis, he needs a doctor. He needs to be home.. isn't there anything you could do?" Porthos asks, trying not to sound desperate.

"I could only think of perhaps a wagon of sorts? Someone would need to keep care of him. It won't be an easy task."

"I'll be the one to be with him. I know what I'm doing." Porthos volunteers bravely but without any second thought.  
D'artagnan goes to get a wagon they saw near the farm and starts padding it with their cloaks and any blankets they could find. Then, Porthos and Aramis swiftly and carefully carry their friend, placing him gently where he needs to be. Porthos climbs in behind with Athos and rests Athos' head on his lap. Porthos covers him with blankets and does his best to keep him warm.

Less than half way there, Athos weakly takes hold of Porthos' wrist. 

"The pain. It's maddening." Athos mumbles.

"I know. We're almost there. Hold on." says Porthos although he knows that there is still a ways to go.  
Every bump, every crack, every turn, sends shock waves of pain everywhere and he could already feel himself getting ill in the near future.

"We have to stop. He's.. he's not doing too good." Porthos warns Aramis.

"No." Athos grounds out.

Maybe they should have stayed the night but Athos would not allow it. They had to report back to the city and who knows what other criminals would have found their way there.

It's Porthos himself who carries Athos inside their home and tucks him into his own bed. "We're home now, love. D'artagnan is getting a doctor, ok?"  
He does not leave Athos' side and is the one to hear the doctor's report after he had examined the declining Musketeer.

"He has pneumonia for starters. How he ever made it back here is a miricle. His wounds look like they were closed promptly and correctly so that should not cause infection. He also has two cracked ribs and numerous bruising. The eye will eventually open. So I suggest he not leave this bed for at least a couple of weeks. It's lucky you found him when you did, his body would not be able to stand much more." the doctor explains and then tells the more 'medical' advice to Aramis. Basically, no drinking alcohol, keep warm and rest.

When late night falls, Porthos wonders if he should sleep away from Athos or..?

He makes his way back to where Athos is sleeping and undresses before sliding into bed very, very carefully. To Porthos' surprise, he could feel Athos snuggle up to him. Porthos chuckles slightly not expecting Athos of all people to be a snuggler.

"Porthos.." Athos mutters.

"I'm here. Get some sleep."

Porthos, too, falls asleep quickly, not realizing the energy that stress and worry drain.


	4. The Point of No Return.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How was that?" Porthos asks. Athos smirks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual Contact.

Treville visits Athos once and insists that he is off duty until further notice. Of course no one objects. Porthos is uneasy about leaving Athos alone. Athos might be off duty but he isn't. He must return to the garrison and resume life, mostly without their leader at his side.

Aramis keeps him company the following day and he does his best to not think about Athos.

"I know you care for him." Aramis says gently. Porthos shakes his head.

"Don't we all?"

"Yes, of course, but I mean you _really_ care for him. Do not think that it goes unnoticed." Aramis responds, trying to be understanding and also find out what's been really going on.

"Yeah, 'suppose I do." Porthos agrees, knowing that he really does.

"And does Athos return your affections?" Aramis wonders out loud.

"He.." Porthos trails off, unsure about how to word it.

"Don't tell me you had your first fight." Aramis teases, smile on his face. Porthos can't help but chuckle.

"Nah. It's just hard for him." admits Porthos once the two quiet down a little.

"You have a big heart, my friend. Athos, however, has a damaged one." Aramis slightly warns. Porthos knows this well though and he knows the troubled waters he's wading in. It doesn't matter. He'll do what it takes for Athos to feel truly loved- and not just loved by anyone, loved by him.

Aramis wants to ask if Porthos would like to get drinks later that night with him and D'artagnan but he doesn't knowing that Porthos would rather be home playing nurse to Athos.

Porthos is both worried and excited to be returning to Athos after not seeing him all day. He'll take care of him and he'll take all the verbal jabs and jokes for it.  
Days press on and turn to weeks, aiding in Athos' slow but steady recovery. His pneumonia is almost full cleared and the swelling around his eye has gone down. His ribs, however, remain painful and tender.

"I'm tired of being cooped up here." Athos complains, boredom finally getting the better of him.

"Sorry. It'll just be a little longer." Porthos shrugs and then is right at Athos' side when he tries to get out of bed.

"What the hell you think you're doing??" Porthos scolds, gently guiding him back down.

"I want to get out of here, Porthos. I'm sick of being in bed. I miss work and I miss you!" Athos yells, not even realizing what he's said until it's too late.

"You what?" Porthos asks, making sure he heard right.

"Nothing."

"No, no, say that again." Porthos chides, smiling.

"I didn't say anything." Athos denies flatly.

"No, I think you said that you missed me."

Porthos is grinning and just a small amount of red creeps up to Athos' cheeks.

"I think you need your ears checked, friend." Athos defends, but there is no real muster behind it.

"Yeah, yeah, alright. Look, you aren't ready to get up yet." Porthos shakes his head. He sits on the edge of the bed and is quiet for a moment. He wants to kiss him. Athos looks so terribly tired but also lonely.

Athos leans forward and kisses Porthos long and sweet. Against his better judgement, Porthos continues the kiss, both wanting and giving as much passion as he felt. Athos pulls Porthos' shirt off revealing the dark, scarred but pretty skin of his lover. He can't help but run his hands over him, feeling his chest and his shoulders, getting drunk in the sensations.

"You alright, love? I'm not hurting you, am I?" Porthos asks with genuine concern. Athos shakes his head and puts his hand on the back of Porthos' neck, pushing their lips together harder.

Athos' blood is boiling and he tugs his own shirt off, ignoring the ache. He let's Porthos kiss down his neck, sucking on it, biting sometimes. "Porthos." Athos pants. At first Porthos looks worried but when he sees a small smirk on Athos' face, he laughs and kisses his forehead.

"Let's get you out of these.." Porthos growls, pulling the rest of Athos' clothes off and doing the same of his own.

It's not strange seeing another man naked. Not at all. It doesn't occur to Porthos and Athos is feeling more alive than he had in a long time. They just lay there on the bed kissing and touching that Athos can't wait when Porthos reaches down and strokes him. There is a fire burning in Athos' eyes and Porthos sees this. Porthos sees it and it excites him even more when he can see and feel how pleasured his lover and friend is feeling. Athos deserves this and more but Porthos will make sure he can give everything he has.

Of course actual penetration is on both of their minds. It's been turned around over and over for a while now. Athos, however, is too weak to engage in such activity so the darker of the two kisses down Athos' chest and stomach, leaving Athos breathless. The unspoken leader is incredibly hard, each throb making him slightly more mad with desire.

When he feels Porthos' lips around him, any thoughts of pride go out the window. It's been so damn long since anyone at all sucked his cock and now the man who has given him everything he could ask is continuing to do so. He's mostly quiet with the exception of the occasional moan when Porthos' licks a sweet spot but it's getting harder and harder to remain that way, biting his lip as time goes on.

"You're so pretty, you know that." Porthos says, stopping for a moment to look up Athos. Porthos now feels privileged and lucky to be the only man- only person- to touch and even see Athos this way in a long time.

Athos let's out a breath that he wasn't even aware he was holding and pulls Porthos up to him. He could taste himself on Porthos' lips but he doesn't care. The two become lost in each other, feeling blissful, and it doesn't even scare Athos that he might feel happy.

Athos' heart is soaring and taking new heights. "M-more." he whimpers desperately. Porthos grinds his hips into his lover's and and they create a sweet friction which steadily builds up their moment to orgasm.

Time seems to slow when the 'point of no return' threshold is reached. They continue to kiss and grind and touch..

"I'm gonna.." Athos warns.

A full on explosion errupts from Atho's cock, expelling stream after stream of milky release. He can't talk, just choke quietly as it rivets through him.

"Oh yeah, that's beautiful, give it to me," Porthos growls. The hot friction goes slick between them as Athos drains of his release. Tired, and vulnerable, he looks perfect in the eyes of Porthos who he himself is close to his pending orgasm as well.

"Dear, Porthos." Athos pants. He kisses Porthos hard and the two don't break apart until Porthos' body locks up and he comes hotly between them just as Athos did moments before.

Athos feels alive inside and quite satisfied but also feeling the effects of soreness that he had ignored or that the euphoria covered. "Stay here." says Porthos, kissing Athos' temple and then getting a washcloth and some water to clean them up.

"How was that?" Porthos asks. Athos smirks.

"It was wonderful. Thank you." Athos admits. Porthos gently wipes up the evidence of their time together and sits at the edge of the bed. "For what?"

"For not giving up.. on me, I mean."

Porthos moves into bed with Athos and puts his arm around him. "You really need to get some rest now or I might just not be able to resist again." Porthos jokes. Athos is already thinking of going further next time. He wonders what Porthos' cock would feel like inside of him.

"Porthos?" Athos asks sleepily.

"mm?" comes the just as sleepy answer.

"I.. good night, my friend."

Porthos knows exactly what his lover means and kisses him again.


End file.
